


The Blessing of Emptiness

by Deaflittlesnail



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Ada tries so hard, Asexual Character, Bucket of angst, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, F/F, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Magical Exhaustion, Misunderstandings, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, mobility issues, sickness recovery, teaspoon of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-05-14 21:13:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14777334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deaflittlesnail/pseuds/Deaflittlesnail
Summary: Hecate Hardbroom's lifelong physical ailments get the best of her and despite Ada's best attempts, things begin to fall apart. But maybe that's just want needed to happen...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Catmca100](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catmca100/gifts).



> To my darling Cat, who not only encourages and inspires me to write after a very long break, but also fills me with joy that pinpricks a broken tinfoil heart and makes it feel like a polished diamond. You da best.

Ada had always assumed she would be the first to retire. She was older; more prone to becoming ill and in general more willing to pass the torch to the next generation. But as she watched Hecate limp to the chalkboard, her strict voice still very much in control on the third year potions class, she knew she would be following her into retirement and not just hoping she’d visit her. The younger woman just wasn’t going to be able to continue anymore. 

Hecate had always struggled walking distances, as long as Ada had known her. She had never pried into the reasoning, but knew that the cold and exhaustion made it worse for the younger witch. She knew also that it was something she had sought medical treatments for without much success over the years. Knew she couldn’t stand for long periods of time no matter how hard she tried; even with certain spells and potions. And that Hecate was always in some level of pain. This had been confessed to her one early morning ten years prior when Ada had unthinkingly offered to rub her deputy’s tense shoulders. 

The woman had overreacted in her dismissal and then proceeded to admit that nerve pain disallowed touch in most of her body. She’d demonstrated the sporadic trembling in her hands and then practically begged Ada to not feel badly about not knowing. Ada’s disappointment in herself for not realising that not lessened with Hecate’s attempt to assure her. It had only grown over the years. Hecate seemed to know every tiny little thing about Ada after all, from her favourite tea to her passwords for the various gummy games she played on her maglet during the summer. 

And many times, Ada thought she knew her deputy just as well; such as how her tall shoes were enchanted to take the pressure off of her feet/legs when she stood as well as make her more menacing to the growing girls of Cackles. But mostly, Ada had to admit that many intimate details were mysteries that Hecate just blushed away when asked. She was far too good at avoiding conversations about her past.  It was a fact that Ada had filed away and kept herself closely aware of. 

Many days, she almost forgot her friend was burdened with such pain. The woman was stubborn to a fault and rarely if ever admitted to needing or wanting help. But the last few months, she had begun to limp even when the distances were so short it was ridiculous to transfer. Not that Hecate hadn’t done so. Ada recalled Dimity and Gwen’s eye rolls at their ‘dramatic’ friend. They didn’t know, so she didn’t fault them for it and Hecate was prone to drama and flair... but that hadn’t stopped her from feeling bitter anger and stomach pinching regret. Ada had watched Hecate pass out only a few days ago, exhausted from transferring herself tiny distances throughout the whole day. And had heard it rumoured that it had happened since then without a report being sent to her. No potions Hecate took seemed to really help and the lovely sleek black cane that Ada had seen her use only in the privacy of her room or Ada’s office seemed less helpful than it should have. 

The desire to say something; offer something had become like a physical itch; burning within her skin and shrieking to get out. She had to do something; anything. 

“They don’t think less of you, my dear.” Ada assured her. They were in her office, in the cosy chairs with tea and biscuits. The fire was soft; sending warm fingers of light about the room. 

The incident that had led to this impromptu meeting still hung in the back of Ada’s mind. The stark image of Hecate crumbling during dinner; white knuckles grasping the edge of the table as she had waved Dimity and Algernon off, eyes misty with pain-induced tears, would stick with Ada for a very long time. It had scared her so badly. Somehow it had been even worse than the fainting episode; or maybe it felt worse because it was on top of it. Stitching the incidents into a tapestry depicting the fall of one Hecate Hardbroom.    

Hecate hadn’t touched her still warm tea. It sat clutched in her thin hands; as a shield against the cold Ada was sure the deputy still felt despite the fire. The potions mistress was shivering after all. “Hecate?” 

“How could they not?” The pale woman whispered, pained eyes lifting to meet Ada’s. It broke the headmistress’ heart to see her so distressed.

 “Because they care for you. The girls, the staff. Me. We all care.”

Hecate didn’t roll her eyes or sigh in exasperation; but the unchanging sadness etched in her face told Ada she didn’t believe her. 

“Things need to change.” Ada ventured, filling her teacup again. She moved to top off Hecate’s but stopped herself. There wasn’t room in the little cup and the other witch wasn’t paying enough attention to drink. She was still staring into the fire; the firelight dancing on her shadowed cheeks. “You’re running yourself into the ground. And it’s not worth it, my dear.” 

Hecate shrugged. 

“Standards must be kept.” She insisted, finally sipping the tea. Ada noted though that she had not denied that she was pushing herself too hard. _Maybe things were slowly going to get back on track_ , Ada mused. _Hecate was going to have to start limiting herself but maybe_ \- The tea cup shattered on the rug. 

Hecate’s wide eyes stared, shocked, down at it. As if the rebellious piece of drinkware had leapt from her hands. No, Ada inwardly sighed, things were very much off track. 

“Here.” Ada leant forward, waving her hand over the pieces. The cup clicked itself back together again and danced back onto the low table. 

“You already think less of me.” Hecate murmured, long quivering fingers gripping the seat cushion edges. 

Ada’s mouth felt dry. She cursed herself for not letting Hecate do something about the cup. 

“No, Hecate. I don’t! I just know you’re tired and need to take it easier. You’ll be fine after this summer.” She smiled. _Magical exhaustion_ , Dimity had muttered after they’d watched Hecate drag herself from the dining room. That had only been an hour or so ago; the broken cup was just another on a long list of red flags. 

Hecate pinned her with a glare she usually only received after another round of “why haven’t you expelled Ethel?” 

“Don’t lie to me.” She whispered, glare crumpling as she wilted in the chair. “Please. I cannot bear it. Not from you.” 

Ada put her cup down and ignored the pops her knees made as she rose. She shuffled forward avoiding the wet spot from the spilt tea and knelt in front of Hecate’s chair.

 “I’m sorry.” Ada started, eyes watering. “I know it’s more than that and that you’re struggling and I haven’t been able to truly understand or help you.” She gently took the younger woman’s cold hands when she went to interrupt her, watching her face for any signs of discomfort. “I should try to help you instead of letting you insist everything is okay. Letting you hurt yourself for me and the girls.”

She shook her head when Hecate opened her mouth to retort. 

“I do care, Hecate. That’s why I need to finally be honest with you.” Ada’s cheeks flames red as Hecate’s eyebrow cocked up and her mouth shut. “I care too much about you. Love you too much to watch you continue killing yourself here.” This needed to be delicate, she knew. 

“You may need to consider retirement.” She swallowed to continue on but Hecate interrupted, moving to slide her hands out of Ada’s, horror blanketing her shocked face. Ada didn’t let her go, too sure that Hecate needed to hear her out. 

“I need to retire?” She squeaked, voice unusually high as her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, pain pinched her face. “That’s the truth?” She whispered, trembling almost violently, searching Ada’s face for anything that told her it was a joke, a misunderstanding, even... Agatha. 

Ada nodded, feeling sure that once thoroughly explored they would do well away from the taxing strain of Cackles. She was confused when Hecate gently pulled from her, staggering to her feet. Ada reached out to grip the faltering professor’s elbow, noting the tear that had wrestled free to glitter down Hecate’s cheek. 

The woman was breathing heavily, as if suppressing a flood of emotion. 

Ada knew something wasn’t connecting. Perhaps Hecate thought she meant to send her away. 

“You just need a change and I am finally understanding that. And it’s like you said, we do have to keep standards.”Ada insisted.   


Hecate twisted her hand and transferred across the room. She swayed but rightened herself with the summoned cane. 

“I would go with you, Hecate.” Ada confessed, trying to keep from screaming it. “We’d finally be able to have that retirement we talked about having some day. Free from all the girls and exploding potions and evil plots. A garden, maybe even those ducks. That would be perfect wouldn’t it?”

Hecate turned back to her, pain seemingly lessened. A small smile, soft and sad settled over her lips, and Ada felt assured this was where she would nod and they’d start a new future.

“I asked you not to lie to me. You have no desire to retire, I know that. I won’t shackle you to me and let you descend to being my babysitter and crutch. If it’s truly your desire to have me leave; that is all you need to say.” She paused. “I’ll send for my things.” Ada lurched forward, suddenly terrified as Hecate transferred away. 

“No. You don’t understand.” She told the empty room. 

Fear gripped her as she hurried to the door and out into the hallway. Hecate wasn’t able to transfer large distances, so the furthest she could have gone was her rooms. 

Ada tried to get her breathing under control as she blinked up at the solid door. She wanted to just burst in, take the stubborn, proud witch into her arms and shake her. Make her see that she wanted to spend the rest of her life easing her pain and comforting her sorrows. And loving her. In any way, form or label that meant. It was just a misunderstanding. Somehow she had not communicated her thoughts well enough. Somehow, Hecate had not seen her willingness as genuine or strong. 

She knocked three times in rapid succession, each time louder. There was no response; no sound. 

Fearing a repeat of the fainting spell, Ada pushed the door open. 

The room was empty. Hecate was gone.  



	2. Chapter 2

Hecate knew it was foolish. And outside of her current abilities; but she had transferred herself to her family’s old home anyway.

She had lost consciousness soon as she had materialized and didn’t wake till mid- afternoon the next day. 

The sunlight had filtered in through the torn curtains, highlighting the dust that hung in the thick air.

She had not been in the house since her mother’s death, some odd forty years before and had no idea if anyone had been there since. 

The wards, still in place, had allowed her in and for that she was grateful. It had been very short-sighted of her to try the distance and destination. 

She had forgotten about the ancient spells protecting the squat little cottage. 

With the time that had passed; there had been a greater chance of the wards not allowing her access than letting her slip in with only the tingle of their magical tug echoing against her skirts. 

She berated herself for being so careless. 

Hecate Hardbroom was not careless. 

But that did not help her want to get up.

Sore, exhausted and emotionally battered, she had just stayed in a tightly curled ball on the hard dusty floor. 

If she did not move; she could pretend nothing hurt. 

Hearing her own words about standards echoed back from Ada had hurt so much. 

She had already known she was slipping, making it hard for those around her. 

Mr Rowan-Webb had even offered to help her monitor her class after her last fainting spell. 

He had sworn to never tell anyone. 

She had more politely declined. 

Maybe she should have accepted; shown Ada she was able to change; able to accept help. 

That she was worth the time and effort needed to stay at Cackles. 

She shuddered inwardly, the fresh pain still raw. 

She knew she was no longer Cackles material. 

Just a burden; just another old witch who needed to be helped. 

Only she was no Miss Bat; with a loving wizard or loyal fans. No she was just a dried up bitter witch with fading magic and a stern reputation. 

Here, alone, she would not hurt anyone. 

She could put Ada’s attempt to help her out of her mind- crush the grief that rose to grip her throat and choke her with overwhelming waves of self-loathing and loneliness.

Sometimes she wondered if anyone would care. 

They would say they did. Funerals were always full of mourning people; speaking softly murmured half-truths about the dearly departed. 

They would recount that she had been so dedicated to the craft. 

Maybe they would remember a time when she did something that amused them. Her standards and strict adherence to the traditional always seemed to. 

They would regret some things; but she highly doubted those regrets would last. 

They would fade like cut flowers on the freshly turned earth. 

Her lesson plans would be replaced with another studious woman’s work; students would only hold dim recollections of the scary HB in the foggy corners of their minds till life tossed those new dreads and worries their way. 

No one would miss her; not for long any way. 

But she knew she’d miss them all. 

Hecate had stayed up all night many times; waiting for a late Ada to return from her conference; wet with dew from the predawn landing in the yard. 

Every time, Ada had berated her for waiting, but both witches knew it would happen again.

There were the brooms Hecate tirelessly inspected each summer after Dimity nearly broke her leg when one poorly kept one broke her first year with them. 

She had checked Miss Bat’s course work for years and had graded her exams when the older woman fell asleep a quarter way through. 

She had felt the stab of betrayal when Miss Gullet had been proven to be in liege with Agatha; wondering if perhaps she had been overly harsh with her in the past. 

But then the frog-imprisonment of Algernon Rowan-Webb came to mind and she had forgiven herself. 

She had let the older wizard collect flowers from her personal gardens for his sweetheart. 

She cared. 

For each of the staff- even Miss Mould who had been nothing but trouble till it had been almost too late. 

She still had nightmares about that. 

Cold sweat on her forehead when she dreamt of it being her instead of the bouncy art teacher drained of her power. 

There was guilt for that. Now, her magic so weak due to her physical condition, she almost wished it had been her.

She still felt such self-loathing for Agatha’s ability to trick her. 

For bending her to think she saw Ada in those sharp eyes. 

As if Ada had been reduced to a costume; pink cardigan and glasses to be donned by anyone and Hecate would swear allegiance. 

It was one of the many daggers protruding from her chest. 

The ache intensified and she realised it wasn’t something she could ignore any more. 

There was a potion in her pocket she uncorked and took in a measured swallow. 

It would last three days. 

Before then she would need to send for the rest of her stuff and let the shadows and cobwebs of her family home embrace her. 

Do some reading, maybe.

Carefully, she moved to stand, gasping as her legs refused to hold her weight. 

She fumbled for her cane, awkwardly angling it to help her but it clattered to the floor uselessly as she realised how weak her body was. 

The transfer had been too much, draining her magic and strength to a mere shadow. 

She would need multiple potions, sleep and time to get back to some semblance of herself.

Crawling, even with no one to see it was horrendously embarrassing and hard, her arms trembling and she dragged her weary body to the nearest couch. 

It was covered with a white dust cover and low enough that after a few tries she was able to heave herself up into it. 

She fell asleep almost instantly; dusty from head to toe, debris and dirt coating her hands and dress front.

It was only an hour later when she woke; head splitting and body in agony as she tried to remember where she was and why she was there. 

It was then she cried, burying her wet face into the couch, hiccuping and sneezing as the sobs wracked her body.

**********************************************************************************************************************************************  
At Cackles

 

Ada had searched the entire castle and tried, failing horribly, to not alert the staff that anything was amiss. 

But Dimity caught on something was up when Ada asked her if she’s seen Hecate around and got the whole thing out of her by the time they’d finished checking the classrooms.

“Where else would she have gone?” Miss Drill, diligent and reliable, asked. 

It was no secret that Miss Hardbroom had no immediate family and that she spent her holidays either at the school or either Miss Cackle at various conferences.

Ada’s brow furrowed.

“I checked with Mother, she didn’t go there.” She sighed. “To be honest, I have no idea. Hecate has never mentioned owning a house or having a place she’d go instead of here.” Dimity nodded, thoughtfully handing Ada a cup of tea.

“Well we know she couldn’t transfer far. That’s a comfort. And you said she would send for her things. Maybe that’ll slip where she is.” Ada stared at the amber liquid.

“And then you can go explain exactly what you meant and bring her back here. She’s ill and struggling, not an invalid.”

The headmistress dropped into a nearby student’s desk.

“You think I did the wrong thing, telling her to retire.”

Dimity grimaced.

“Well. It probably needed to be a different kind of conversation.”

She sat beside her, taking her hand.

“Ada, I know you always mean well. You’re phenomenal with the girls and do such a great job understanding them and their needs. Mine too. Maybe even the rest of the staff.” She trailed off shrugging. “But HB, sorry, Hecate, is different. She’s very sensitive; and maybe even feels deeper than most of us realise.” Dimity groaned, thinking back to her last encounter with the stubborn witch. “Like when I told her the girls needed less potions and more outdoor activities or they’d end up like her.”

Ada stared at her, wide-eyed.

“You didn’t!” She gasped, horrified and knowing how deeply that would cut into the potions mistress.

Dimity looked properly abashed.

“Yes I did. I was irritated and that was the first thing that popped out. But you see I wouldn’t have even thought something like that would have bothered her when I first started here.” She patted Ada’s hand. “She’s a hard one to read sometimes, puts on dramatic flair to hide real panic and very real fear, Ada. She’s losing parts of herself that make up her identity. You have to remember how much her independence means to her.” Dimity smiled carefully. “She needs to know that no matter how bad things get. That even though things change; she’ll still be okay.”

Ada sighed.

“You’re very perspective, Miss Drill. I always think I know what Hecate is thinking but to be honest, I am probably far off the mark. She always seems to go along with me even if it’s not something she agrees with wholeheartedly.”

Dimity nodded.

“Loyal to a fault.”

Ada chuckled.

“Usually my fault. I can look over so many times that she wanted us to do something differently or keep it the same and I fought her or turned it down. She’s almost always right... almost.”

“Almost wouldn’t include Mildred Hubble, Ada.” Dimity teased. “I think part of the problem is really in that.”

Ada frowned.

“In Mildred?”

Dimity laughed.

“No, in how you see each other. You see her as the strict professor who is always loyal and able to come through in a bind. Independent, stubborn and strong. And she sees her boss who’s kindness is out there for everything and everyone, whose only vice is trusting people past the point of wisdom.”

Ada blinked.

“Oh my bats! Dimity! Do you think she thought I offered to retire with her because I’m kind?”

Dimity nodded.

“Pretty sure that’s exactly what she thought. A pity retirement. You did say she said she’d not let you “shackle” yourself to her. That’s Hecate’s dramatic way of telling you she doesn’t want to burden you.”

Ada groaned, burying her face in her hands.

“I had meant to express it differently. How the prospect of being with her and helping her would be wonderful. Never a burden.”

Dimity folded her hands in her lap.

“I know you think that Ada. But to be honest. Hecate’s condition isn’t going to allow for wonderful. If you two make up and she lets you help her; it’s going to be hard. You’re her best friend. She doesn’t want you to feel stuck after the novelty wears off.”

Ada leapt from the desk; spry and furious.

“That wouldn’t happen! I would never abandon her or become like that. I love her.”

Dimity shrugged, playing nonchalant , glad to see this reaction.

“Sometimes love isn’t enough, Ada.”

Ada shook her head vehemently.

“Mine is.”


	3. Chapter 3

Two days and she had less strength than before. There was no food in the house that she knew of and she did not have the strength to leave the couch; much less anything else. The potion was down to its final dose and then she knew the pain would increase with more severity than her weakened state could bear.

“Just send Ada a message, you silly witch.” Hecate chastised herself. “No need to fuss. She’d bring the other potions and everything else if you asked.”

Tears blurred her vision.

“She’d do anything you asked. Even throw her life away.”

Her greatest gut-gnawing worry was how hard it had been for her to say no to Ada.

She knew Ada thought she would be able to be happy, but that was not true.

Hecate was not able to provide happiness for anyone.

That much had been proven ever since her early childhood.

Her mother had not been happy, she had told her that her father was happier in heaven. As if to prove that, her mother had gone to be with him and left Hecate with one bitter Gran and the weight of the Hardbroom name. ‘You’ll make no wizard happy with a slouch like that... with a dress like that... with hips that narrow... with an expression that dour... with that trembling… foolish girl.”

She had learnt that happiness was something she saw in others and could gain from them; but never truly possess or give back. Happiness was fleeting and short lived; a spark of life that died as soon as you turned to acknowledge it, the moment contentment blossomed.

Ada was happiness and she spread it to everyone she touched. That’s why Hecate couldn’t let her rot away trying to fix broken little Hecate. It would be putting a lid on a glowing candle. It would snuff out.

She loved her too much to hurt her.

“Don’t be such a burden, you vile girl.” Her gran had hissed so often Hecate felt it had been branded into her skin. “When you let yourself need help; you punish those who help you. You’re making them just as bad as you are. That’s not what friends do, Hecate. Now is it.” Her gran would pat her head, using those words as an example as to why she couldn’t play with the other girls, go to Pippa’s party, or why Pippa couldn’t visit when she was ill... ill with the result of her disobedience after all.

“You have made a mistake, Hecate. Mistakes are punished. You know better.”

Sometimes, in the dark of the night when she had been alone and unable to sleep, she would lay on her stomach and trace the white ridged scars on her back.

Each one from her gran or later her nanny for various disobedient behaviour.

She knew now that she had not actually done anything worth such violence; knew it in her heart like she knew everything that happened was based on her own choices.

But like all things; it was hard to break away from childhood lies. Knowing and believing are different. To know is to have a choice to make but to believe is to make choices that change one’s life. Hecate had lived in a manner that she believed protected others, shielded herself and would have made her stern Gran proud. She had only been six when her mother had passed, could not even remember her father. Just that her Gran had used them as weapons against her. Words that cut as deeply into her young soul as the switches against her flesh.

Her gran had passed in her first year of university; and just like that, she had been free. Graduating with honours, she had believed her life to be open and full of possibilities. She had worked in a small apothecary to get her feet under her and had been content enough. It had been managed by her Gran’s cousin, Colm, a repressed wizard who thought highly of his social position and not much of Hecate. Still, two months into her employment he had been pressed to marry by his friends and family and thus had decided to pursue Hecate. He had asked her marry him almost weekly, lecturing her on the needs of the continuation of the magical community; an idea that has sickened Hecate to her core. He had been harmless enough at first; but as she turned him down time and again; he had begun to show signs of frustration. The dour and rather flat person puffed from the airs of his friends had demanded she marry him or leave employment.

Hecate had left that afternoon; single bag in hand with no prospects to speak of.

Labelled by her remaining family as a ‘two-bit hussy’ for ‘leading poor Colm on’, Hecate had found employment difficult to near impossible to obtain. 

Then Ada.

There had been an advertisement for the potions post at Cackles. And due to the chaos of the twin headmistresses, very few applicants had applied much less stuck around long enough to be hired. Agatha had wanted to teach the post herself, despite not having the credentials. Despite these rumours, Hecate had gone for it.

It had not been easy.

Despite Ada being wonderful and Agatha a minor annoyance, Hecate had struggled to adapt to the Cackles environment. She had been too strict at first, reducing countless little girls to tears and thus been the source of many a parents’ strongly worded letter. The staff had tried to get to know her, but had given up quickly. But Ada, sweet kind Ada, had ignored her dismissed invitations, stiff discomforts and continual rejections. Until, like a cat in need of a respite, Hecate had found herself befriended. Ada was by no means perfect; Hecate knew that… forgot that. But she was genuine and loving; ignored or saw through her many faults and relied on her, had trusted her; for decades.

Even now, turned out and useless, Hecate knew Ada was very upset about the way things had gone. Knew it had hurt her tender heart to tell the truth. Hecate wished she had had the courage to leave before it had come to that point. Wished she had been able to spare Ada.

She fought to sit up again; try to make her way into the kitchen at least. Maybe find something... but her body stayed stubbornly inert and she let sleep claim her again.

******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

“Maybe something’s wrong.” Miss Bat wondered aloud at breakfast. Hecate had abruptly left three days ago and the entire school now deeply felt her absence. Though none so keenly as Ada, who felt responsible for her leaving in the first place.

“Why would you say that?”

Miss Drill inquired, genuinely curious. She had thought it strange that they had yet to hear from the former deputy but knew how stubborn the woman could be. Surely she had gone to a hotel or friend’s house. She had a thought and glanced over at Ada; reminding herself to bring it up after the meal.

“She hasn’t taken anything from her room. I fed her cat yesterday and the poor dear was so sad.”

All staff members stared at the older woman.

“Her cat is still here?” Dimity nearly shrieked.

Ada’s mouth fell open.

“She’d never leave her cat behind.” She’s left me, yes, she inwardly muttered, but never her familiar. No respectable witch would. Not for three days; without word.

“Miss Bat is right.” Ada declared, putting her porridge spoon down. “Something must be wrong. We need to find her.”

“But we’ve no idea where she went.” Algernon pointed out, hand on his beard.

Dimity shifted in her chair.

“Maybe she’s gone to Miss Pentangles?” She offered. “They are friends after all. It’s further than we thought she could go; but maybe we underestimated her.”

Ada inwardly screamed. The idea of her sending Hecate to her childhood friend turned enemy turned holiday friend, bothered her more than she cared to admit. But Hecate would be safe with Pippa; there was that at least. Maybe Pippa could even provide the help the witch desperately needed. Maybe Hecate could accept Pippa’s care. Though Ada doubted the headmistress would have time. Would she be willing to retire or set aside that much time? Stop it, Ada, you’re being a child, she chided herself.

“I’ll mirror her and find out. At least we would know she’s safe.”

Miss Bat nodded furiously. “I do hope she is.” She murmured, allowing Algernon to take her hand. “She’s been so missed.”

Ada went with Dimity, using the younger woman’s stalwart strength to get though the hallways and corridors to her office. She had been worried about Hecate, eating too much and crying herself to sleep each night. But the new prospect that Hecate could have just been at Pentangles both comforted and angered her. Would Hecate so quickly forget them all, forget her...?

“Good Morning, Miss Pentangle.” Ada greeted warmly. The pink headmistress looked as pretty and pristine as ever, luminous as she smiled.

“Good Morning, Miss Cackle. Always a pleasure. I hope nothings the matter.” Her smile dimmed only slightly as she glanced at Dimity who was just off to Ada’s left.

“Nothing horribly.” Ada assured her. She had debated how to ask after Hecate. Unsure if Pippa would even admit the witch was there if Hecate had suddenly turned up believing she was being turned out. “It’s just Miss Hardbroom turned in her resignation a few days ago and-“

The younger witch gasped loudly, her eyes wide as she leant forward.

“What!? How did that happen? Is she okay?” All pretence fell away and in that moment, Ada knew Pippa had no idea where Hecate was. Her stomach bottomed out and she forced herself to press on.

“There was a misunderstanding about her health issues and she left the school. We’ve been looking for her; she hasn’t sent for her things yet and we’ve become concerned.”

Pippa nodded, looking agitated.

“I haven’t heard from Miss Hardbroom in a few weeks. She last mentioned being too busy with class prep and I knew her health had taken a turn.” She sighed. “I’ve known she’s been struggling for a bit but not to such a degree. To be honest we’ve not confided in some time and I’ve no idea as to where she’d go apart from Cackles.” Her face softened. “She loves that school and you all so much. I can’t imagine anywhere else she’d want to go.”

“Where else could she go? Not wanting. Maybe a family home or old friend?” Ada asked, hoping something with come to her.

Pippa looked thoughtful.

“Miss Cackle, there’s thing about Miss Hardbroom that are harder to speak about,” She began, glancing again at Dimity, who took the hint and transferred away. “Hecate didn’t have a good childhood. I knew that and to be honest had hoped to save her when we went to university together. But that didn’t happen.” She looked saddened by the memory. “But I know she wouldn’t go back to her grandmother’s house for anything. Maybe try her family home. I don’t know where it is; just that she mentioned it a few times when her grandmother moved her.”

Ada sighed with hope.

“You wouldn’t happen to have that address handy now would you?” Ada tried lightly, already tense with worry.

Pippa rose without comment and sifted through her nearby desk and set of filing drawers.

“I used to have our old projects in here somewhere.” She offered, still searching. “There’s a picture of Hecate as a child from her primary records.”

Ada blinked multiple times. Why Pippa Pentangle would possess these items was baffling to her…

As if sensing the other woman’s thoughts, Pippa looked up, colouring prettily.

“It’s a long story.” She laughed airily.

It twisted Ada’s stomach, as fond as she was of the younger woman, she felt small and suddenly toad-like adrift on a tiny lily pad. ‘This is why you’re alone, Ada. A voice very much like Agatha muttered. ‘Because no matter how much Hecate could ever care about you; you’re not enough for her. Never could be enough.’

“Found it!” Pippa exclaimed, gliding gently back to the mirror. Ada waved away her bitter thoughts and smiled as brightly as her weary cheeks would allow.

Pippa held up a small picture, faded and worn of a little delicate child no older than 6 outside of a stately cottage. A tall thin woman stood beside her with a hand holding the girl in place and a fierce older version of her deputy stood on the other side. The women looked like mother and daughter. The child obviously not yet hitting her growth spurt. Not that Hecate was actually as tall as she liked people to believe, Ada smirked. Without her heeled boots, she wasn’t much taller than Ada.

“That’s her family home.” Pippa said, a pink nail poking the roof. “I’ll get a location seeking potion and be over as soon as I can.”

Ada’s brow furrowed, still fixated on the tiny haunted child staring from the picture. It disturbed her to see Hecate so vulnerable and small. Somehow it reminded her too much of her face in the office before she’d left her.

“You’re coming to Cackles?”

Pippa nodded, firmly.

“You’ll need your staff to maintain the school and I have my deputy to oversee things.” She stated matter-of-factly.

Ada shook her head.

“Your school needs you, Miss Pentangle.”

“Pippa, please.” The younger witch grinned. It was hard to dislike her.

“I need to help, Ada. I really do.” She glanced down at her hands, cradling the picture. “I let her run away once before you see and I- I never even thought to look for her. I cannot do that again.”

Ada felt her resolve soften.

“I would be delighted for your help, Pippa.”


	4. Chapter 4

The cottage was old and in severe need of upkeep. 

The entire thing appeared to be sagging under a great unseen weight. 

Still it stood; proud as its ancient stones could. 

Two stories of wood and stone all squeezed together with enough magic that both Ada and Pippa felt like trespassers before even stepping into the yard. 

There had been a garden; but that was overrun by the forest and weeds, only the small fence, mostly broken, remaining.

Ada tried to imagine it all newer and happy; maybe with fresh green grass and flowers. 

Perhaps a swing and a happy Hecate laughing in the yard. 

But she doubted those were truthful imagining. 

Not with the wrought iron gate that hung heavily on its broken hinges, warning against visitors and that sad bitter picture of the three Hardbroom women. 

They made it to the front door without incident. 

It was thick and heavy with a large brass knocker and the shiny glass sheen of a ward stamped into the wood.

“I’m assuming the wards are still in place.” Pippa murmured, hugging her cloak tighter around her shoulders. 

Ada could not blame her. 

The whole place felt lifeless and cold.

“It would appear so.” Ada whispered a protection spell and then tapped a finger against the door. 

There was a sharp spark of light.

Pippa groaned.

“Why ward a house that no one lives in?” She questioned, irritated. 

Carefully Pippa picked her way through the overgrown yard toward a window. 

Ada watched, debating over their next course of action. 

Most house wards were for the people who lived within them; keeping outsiders out. 

There varied in complexity but most were simple enough. 

But this was a Hardbroom house. Ada knew next to nothing about Hecate’s family but highly doubted they had been flippant with their magical wards. 

She touched the door again, probing for the magical signature.

It was old; older than she had expected and cold; dark to the senses. 

She didn’t like it at all. 

“I’m not seeing her, Ada.” Pippa called out, wedged into the shrubs to look into the window. 

The curtains had enough holes that the balancing witch was able to scan the interior of what appeared to be a foyer. 

No sign of anyone having been in the house. 

The dust was undisturbed and the white sheets still clung to bits of furniture.

“Maybe try another window.” Ada called back, calling to memory every emergency ward-breaking spell she could. “Are you sure Hecate is the last of her family?”

Pippa pulled ivy from her hair and pushed a branch from the next window over.

“Yes, I checked the records. There was a cousin, but she passed last summer.” She stepped up on a log and peered in. 

She shrieked and jerked back when she found herself staring into the face of a taxidermied bear. 

“What’s wrong!?” Ada shouted, abandoning the door to clamber to the pink witches aid. 

Pippa took a few deep breaths, regaining her equilibrium before laughing a bit abashed. 

“I wasn’t expecting the bear.” She admitted, pointing to the creature, dusty and forlorn in the window.

Ada sighed, she had thought horrible things when Pippa has screamed. 

Things she never wanted to think again; but had been combating since Hecate had left. 

What would they find when they found Hecate? 

Would she be cross that they’d tracked her down? 

Sad it had taken them this long? 

Maybe there wouldn’t be any emotion. 

Maybe she’d felt so alone and discarded... Ada stopped herself. 

No, Hecate was strong and would never. She would never. 

But she believed that about as strongly as she trusted the collapsed porch to hold her weight.

Helping Pippa back up into the broken tree, Ada waited for the report. 

“I can’t really see anything around the bear. It’s blocking the entire window. And the wards are blocking my scrying spells and chants.” 

She climbed down with Ada’s help and then pulled her broom off the yard wall, where she had left it. 

“I’ll check upstairs.”

Ada nodded, watching her mount and gently fly up to check the upstairs windows.

She went back for the door, spell after spell soon proving to be of no use. 

Within ten minutes, Pippa was back with leaves in her hair and a downcast expression. 

“The upstairs are all blocked by illusion spells and none of the other down stairs ones gave any view.” She sighed, crouching to brush bits of peeling paint from her heels. “The kitchen door was bolted and warded to.”

Ada has expected as much. Pippa folded her arms.

“Prisons don’t have this much security, Ada. I swear this family was the most paranoid bunch of dramatic-“ 

Ada peered up at her over her glasses.

“Hardbrooms being paranoid or dramatic? Perish the thought.” She teased lightly. Pippa flushed, nodding ever so slightly. 

“I think they’re blood wards.” Ada decided, motioning to the door and walls.

Pippa’s brow furrowed.

“Those were banned decades ago, Ada. Back when I was a school girl.”

Ada nodded.

“And not encouraged before that, either.”

Blood wards were one of the best ways to secure a dwelling; but dangerous all the same and full of potential issues.

All members of the warded house had to be a part of the spell and once cast, it was binding until the last member died.

It had potential to be dangerous because many families had not anticipated how taxing a blood spell could be on their young children and adding children to the spell was the only way to keep it from expelling the newest family member. 

After the death of the four-day old Millicent Newtday, the council had declared the blood wards to be to dangerous for familial use and set about getting them dissolved.

Ada gasped. 

“They had the families dissolve the wards, Pippa!” 

She exclaimed. “So there is a way to get in.”

Pippa smiled then frowned.

“But wouldn’t Hecate have to dissolve it then?”

The roller coaster of this trip was grating on Ada’s patience and nerves. 

“Theoretically, But I believe we could use her cat in the same way. I remember reading an article soon after the banning of blood wards. The authorities had to force a particularly stubborn family to remove the wards and they used the family bird, which came and went as it pleased.”

Pippa grimaced.

“They added a bird to their spell? How horrible.”

Ada blinked.

“I imagine they felt there was nothing wrong with it since they’d used it with their own children, Pippa. Honestly.”

Pippa folded her arms. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” She scowled.

Ada waved them on.

“Hecate lived here as a child. So I believe her cat was added to the spellwork.”

Pippa stared at her as if she was going mad for a moment before shaking her head. 

“Hecate’s cat was with her in school. She told me it was her mother’s gift.”

Ada grinned triumphantly.

“So, we just transfer the cat here, and use it to break the wards.”

Pippa looked a bit unsettled but agreed regardless. 

She did not like the house or the idea of Hecate in it; alone and ill. 

She knew that Ada would do anything to help their friend and she knew she would do likewise.

Ada transferred Morgana from Cackles, amused when the preening animal glared up at her. 

“Now now, it’s all for a good cause.” She murmured, scooping up the annoyed feline. “I promise I’ll make this as painless as possible, my darling.” 

The cat seemed to almost shrug as Ada poked the animal’s paw with a thorn from the nearby tree.

The single drop of blood clung to the thorn as Ada and Pippa pinpricked their own fingers and pressed the mixed blood into the door’s seal. 

Ada prayed to ever deity she knew of that it would be enough.

That the house would recognise the cat and let them in without Hecate’s blood. 

That wasn’t something they had in hand after all.

A moment passed as the two women held their breaths, staring a hole into the old door. 

Morgana wiggled to be set free and leapt down from Ada’s arms. 

The cat ran forward and pushed her paws against the door, pushing it open with a shuddering groan with the ease of motion as if it had been made of styrofoam.

Ada followed the cat in; coughing as the stale thick air filled her lungs. 

“Hecate?” Pippa called, moving her hand to cast an air purifying spell. 

It did wonders as the air sweetened and the dust was banished.

There was a loud meow from the large low couch pushed into the wall as Morgana leapt into it.

Ada rushed forward, heart beating furiously.

“Hecate!” She gasped.

The younger woman was pale and still, face smudged with thick dust as she was partially swallowed by the white dust covers. 

Her breathing was faint and wheezy, no doubt from the dust she had inhaled. 

Every thing about her screamed fragile and broken. 

Ada felt moisture on her cheeks as she knelt down; reaching for a thin hand. 

“Oh you found her!” Pippa exclaimed, rounding the couch. “She looks awful!” She looked horrified, eyes as wet as Ada’s. 

Ada swallowed thickly and bent further to check the younger woman’s pulse.

It was faint and thready. 

Her lips were chapped and dry. Ada glanced around. 

There was no sign of her having left the couch.

A thought sprang to mind.

“You transferred here, didn’t you.” She whispered, horrified. “And then, you were stuck.” 

Pippa pulled her bag from around her back and opened it, pulling out various potions and finally a water bottle, pink with sparkles and a tiny winking unicorn on it. 

Gently Ada poured some water into an equally pink washcloth that Pippa had conjured and dabbed the moisture at Hecate’s pulse points. 

“Hecate.” She murmured, urging her to wake up. 

The dark haired witch grimaced, eyes opening slowly. 

She was still partially covered with the dust covers, a fact Pippa took care of with another cleaning spell and then a banishment one. 

Hecate let out a soft cry, jostled as the sheets vanished and her body twisted slightly.  
Pippa blanched, apologetic.

“I’m so sorry, Hiccup.” She gasped, equally as concerned as she was thrilled to get a response from the formerly comatose woman.

“Can you drink some water?” Ada asked, hesitant to touch her. 

Her heart felt heavy and fragile in her chest, aching as she watched Hecate struggle to move to see them better.

Her mouth opened as did her eyes fully. Wide and fearful eyes; that looked straight through them unseeing. 

“Give her a little water, Ada.” Pippa begged, looking as heartbroken as Ada felt.

Afraid to choke her, Ada grabbed a cushion off the nearby chair and angled it to slide under the witch’s back.

“Can you sit up a bit for me, Hecate?”

There was no response.

“Hecate.”

Ada gently touched her hands, hoping to bring her back from wherever her mind had taken refuge. 

The fear didn’t lessen when Hecate’s wide eyes found hers. 

“Ada?” She sighed, the single syllable almost inaudible.

Ada felt elation course through her.

“Yes, I’m here. I’ve got you, my dear.”

Hecate continued to stare.

Pippa moves from the back of the couch to Ada’s side, armed with the water bottle. 

“We should call a healer.” She whispered.

Ada nodded, carefully rubbing Hecate’s trembling hand. 

“We’re going to get you some water and then a few potions first.” She assured Hecate. 

She dribbled a few drops of water into Hecate’s open mouth; trying not to think of a baby bird. 

She blinked, as if coming to and swallowed during the third dribble of water. 

Then promptly coughed, dry and rattling. 

It shook her whole thin body, spasms curling her into a feral position. 

Ada manuevered the pillow to try to help her but it ended up on the floor, pushed away by Pippa as she pulled the gasping witch up into her arms. 

“Get the green potion with the silver lettering.” Pippa asked, patting Hecate’s back firmly. 

The potions mistress was practically sprawled across pentangles headmistress, still wheezing and gasping.

Ada forced herself to look away and find the potion, knocking over the bag in her haste. 

A potion bottle, almost empty peered out from under the couch and caught her eye as she bent to gather up the fallen items.

“Is this one you brought?” She asked, holding it up for Pippa to see. 

It had Hecate’s familiar handwriting but then again so did some in the bag. 

“No.”

It must have been one Hecate had had with her. 

Had she dropped it and been too weak to grab it or was it something else? 

Something in case everything became too much? 

Ada shuddered, selecting the green and silver potion and sliding the mystery one in her pocket. 

She uncorked the potion and moved back to Pippa.

Hecate’s lips were blue and her eyes wide; body weirdly limp with occasional spasms against Pippa. 

“She needs to take it all. It will help her regain her magical energy. That’ll help her breathe.” Pippa almost sobbed, tears running down her cheeks. 

Ada knelt onto the couch behind Pippa and cupped the back of Hecate’s head, allowing her fingers to thread into the partially fallen bun. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered; pouring the viscous liquid down Hecate’s throat. 

There was a faint glow around her lips and then she stilled. 

“Hecate?” Pippa gently shook her, then a bit rougher, concern and fear gripping her.

Ada sprang into action, helping Pippa lay her flat on her side, tipping her head back to ensure her airway was open. 

“Go call a healer!” Ada snapped, fingers counting the weak pulse as it hummed, barely present.

Pippa ran to her bag, grabbing her maglet before furiously writing an emergency call.  
“Stay with me, Hecate. Stay with me.” Ada urged.


	5. Chapter 5

Hecate had not regained consciousness; not even after two healers had arrived. They were unable to enter the house; blood wards still in place. Pippa had tried to grab Morgana for a repeat performance but the cat had been frightened at the state of her mistress and run up the stairs. Unwilling to waste time tracking down the scared cat and smart enough to not cast a summoning spell in the old enchanted house, Pippa had told the healers to wait and rushed back to Ada. 

‘We’ll need to carry her out.’ She had insisted, helping Ada gather the limp witch between them. Carefully they carried her to the door. It was a struggle for Ada to let her go; especially to the rather gruff looking wizard, a Jacodi Brewbunch. Although he wasn’t rough; seeing the slender deputy carried by the large wizard felt like a physical punch to Ada’s already upset heart. She looked tiny and frail; a heartbeat from death. 

The wizard cleared his throat, and Ada realised she had yet to let go of Hecate’s thin hand. It fit so perfectly in her own clammy ones, she never wanted to let go. 

“It’s okay, Ada.” Pippa patted her arm.

Ada let Hecate go, swallowing thickly. 

“Patient name? And how do you two relate?” the witch-healer, Morna Slugwater asked. She was small compared to her partner but taller than both of the witches she was addressing; dour with pudgy features and a mouth lines with heavy frown lines. Pippa had been recommended them from an incident last spring during Pentangles annual picnic and had kept their card. 

Working together, the healers settled Hecate onto a floating gurney. They worked quickly, casting various diagnosis spells. Professional but hardly concerned or compassionate, they finished within moments before spelling both a magenta and black potion into the unconscious woman.   
“She’s Hecate Hardbroom, deputy head of Cackles Academy. Ada here is her boss and I’m her friend, Pippa Pentangle. ”

The witch-healer nodded. 

“Yes, I remember you. The school with all the trouble makers.” She remarked flippantly.

Pippa bristled. That was hardly true. One bad prank at a picnic did not equal a school full of degenerates. She had half a mind to say as much but the healer seemed focused on Hecate; as well she should be. Pippa inwardly forced the indignation down. If they caused trouble, she’d report them to the council; slim chance of that doing anything regardless.

“You found her like this?” Morna queried, making notes.

Pippa nodded, nudging Ada, who teary nodded as well.

“There was a misunderstanding and she disappeared.” 

“When did she last eat or drink?” The wizard asked, not looking up from his maglet; the diagnosis spell sending data swirling through it. 

“We don’t know. She transferred her around three days ago.” Pippa offered, wrapping a comforting arm around Ada. 

“Should have her stabilized now.” Morna stated, brushing her hands off on her white robes. She turned to the watching witches, mouth a thin line. “She’s malnourished. It’ll take a couple weeks to get her back on track with that.”

Pippa nodded.

“We’ll make sure she gets the best of care.” She assured the medical team.

The wizard scoffed, his thick fingers taking his patient’s pulse. 

Pippa ignored him, her fingers unconsciously tightening on Ada’s shoulder. She could feel the tension in the older witch, coiling tighter and tighter. 

Ada could hear them talking, but her eyes refused to leave her friend, who somehow managed to look even worse in the daylight. “She transferred here from Cackles Academy. We’re assuming it was too far in her condition.”

“Magical exhaustion.” Morna muttered, tucking a blanket around Hecate. “We’ll limit the magic around her. Get her on a range of potions.” 

“We can do that.” Pippa chirped, sounding almost chipper. “Limit the magic around her. Ensure she gets good care.”

Jacodi stood, finally making eye contact. 

Pippa didn’t like the way he looked at them. There was something angry and upsetting about him.

“I’m sure you’ll give her your best care.” He all but spat between clenched teeth. “We’ll check within the next few days, maybe sooner if I feel like it.”

Pippa frowned, irritation coursing through her. 

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary. You said you had her stabilised.”

The wizard’s fist clenched and the witch with him cleared her throat. 

“Jacodi, behave.” The witch-healer hissed. 

Jacodi seemed to madden further. 

“Forgive me for not believing you two, busy headmistresses of big schools. I’ve seen this type of condition before and dark magic.” His face reddened and his voice raised, he gestured with a beefy hand at the warded door. “People abandoned because they can’t work the way they used to. Then they realise they forgot about them and call us healers.” 

Pippa’s mouth fell open. 

“It’s not like that!” she gasped. “Hecate is our friend and we will make sure she gets everything she needs-“

“Your ‘friend’ nearly died, alone for what you ‘believe was 3 days’! I doubt either of you would have even called for us if she hadn’t been so bad off.” He knelt back down next to the potions mistress. 

Pippa rose to her full height, slight shoulders squared. She would not be seen as the enemy here. That was not the case. 

“I appreciate that you’re doing your best to protect your patient, Mr. Jacodi.” She hissed, eyes narrowed. “But you don’t know the whole story and if you’re going to continue to bad mouth myself and Miss Cackle I’m going to have to have words with the council.”

He went to say something but then stopped, his maglet chirping. 

“Morna.” He gestured for his colleague, who hurried over to see the maglet around his arm. “I’ve never seen this level of enchantment.” He muttered, under his breath. Morna, the witch-healer, looked back at Pippa and Ada.

“I hate to ask, especially after, but does Miss Hardbroom have any enemies?”

“Enemies?”

Ada moved forward, broken from her shock. “What do you mean?”

Jacodi cast another diagnostic spell, his large hand strangely eloquent. 

“There’s dark magic; some high level curse or spell on her. It’s like a second skin.”

Ada dropped to her knees, mindless of the pain that shot up her legs from the sudden impact. 

“Let me, please.”

She begged, hand out to test the magic. Horror swirled through her brain; wondering, hoping, praying that her sudden theory was wrong.

The healers let her in. She settled her hand to just over her friend’s forehead, then muttered a detection spell chant, searching for a specific signature she knew as well as her own. One that she would give anything to not find imprinted under her deputy’s own faltering magic.

“Do you have any idea who it was that cursed her, Ada?”

Pippa asked, nervously wringing her hands. The emotional range of finding Hecate, holding her limp body, arguing against abuse with the healer and now discovering that a curse was involved almost broke the strong woman. She had dealt with a lot in her life, such was the burden of her dreams and goals. It had given her thick skin and the rubber flexibility. But right now, she felt as if a hydraulic press was continuously bearing down on her, intent on cracking her. 

Ada sighed, looking strangely relieved but sad all at the same moment. 

“No. No, I don’t.”

“How do we know it wasn’t one of you?” Jacodi snapped, leaning a bit forward as if to shield Hecate from the two women. Had Ada not been on the receiving side of his fierce protective anger, she could have found his manner endearing. But she was and she disliked him intensely. 

“Check.” Ada ground out, glaring back at the man. Still kneeling, he towered over her; making her feel powerless and tiny. Unable to help Hecate, unable to convince this stranger that she had looked for her. Maybe unwilling to convince him; because Ada didn’t really believe that she had done everything she could have done.

Two quick spells later and Jacodi had the decency to look abashed. 

“The magical signature doesn’t match either of you, so at least you didn’t curse her.”

Pippa huffed. 

“You need to stop it. We’re her friends. We found her like this and called you to help.” She snapped. “Now stop attacking me and Miss Cackle.”

He ignored her, checking another spell’s result.

“If we approach it right I think we can untangle it; get a good grasp on it and pull it free, Morna.” He muttered. 

Pippa hoped they could; that it was that easy and this whole unpleasant thing would soon be behind them. Maybe this newly found curse was responsibility for Hecate’s horrible health. Maybe undoing it would allow for better quality life. Maybe. 

Morna settled her hands over Hecate’s temples, her eyes closing as she dug in for the curse. 

Ada grimaced, hoping the amount of magic the healers were expending wasn’t harming the pale woman at their knees. Her hand sought Hecate’s, not caring about the possibility of spell run off. She wouldn’t let her feel abandoned again. Never. 

They all watched intently, the two healers working together to find the deeply rooted curse.

“Got it!” Morna all but shrieked, her brown curled trembling with the effort to keep the magic steady. 

Jacodi laid a hand over Hecate’s chest, nodding when Morna opened her eyes. 

“Together.”

They began a fast-paced healing chant, obviously used to working together in sync. A faint blue glow emitted from the unconscious woman’s chest, spreading throughout her body until it leaked from even her sharp fingernails. The light intensified slightly then slowly shifted from blue to green and then red, as if someone had replaced the potion’s mistress’s blood with fairy lights. 

Ada wanted to stop them; end the chanting and take Hecate somewhere safe and sure. She felt uneasy and wrong about the whole situation. Something wasn’t right; she felt it in her bones. Even Pippa looked worried, her poor hands looking a bit raw from the wringing she was putting them through. 

She squeezed Hecate’s hand, trying to give her strength. 

Suddenly there was a flash of light, forcing Ada to cover her eyes with her free hand. She felt Pippa pull her back, surprisingly strong arms pulling her down to the floor; breaking her grip on Hecate. 

“Hecate!” Ada scrambled to her feet, shrieking her friend’s name; eyes wide with fear. The two healers were scrambling back to their feet, both looking a bit dazed. 

Hecate’s eyes were open, her face contorted with pain; body trembling like a leaf. 

“Hecate.” Ada repeated, crawling toward her. Before anyone could stop her, she grabbed the younger woman’s hand gently in her own. “Tell me what’s wrong.” She urged. “Let me help you.”

Unfocused, Hecate didn’t seem to hear her; or even realise she was there. It stung slightly; but not enough to get Ada to back off or let her go. 

“It’s an old magic; tied in too tightly with her own.” Jacodi groaned, checking his limbs for injury. 

“It attacked you?” Pippa wondered aloud.

Morna nodded, picking up her fallen hat. 

“It was like there was a shield or something guarding it. Felt very powerful.” She shuddered. “I’ve never felt anything like that before.” 

Gingerly, she crept back to Hecate’s side, as if worried the patient would lash out at her. She seemed to note the hand Ada was holding but made no move to touch Hecate herself. 

“The magic didn’t attack us.” Pippa pointed out. Ada nodded in agreement. Pippa had shoved her down, but she’d felt no magic involved. 

“Is she awake?” Ada asked, looking from one shaken healer to the other.

It seemed like an odd question with Hecate’s large brown eyes wide open, shiny with unshed tears; but with the lack of response and the unusual magical attack, she felt she needed to ask.

The wizard moved to check and was immediately propelled back again, although with significantly less force. Morna put up a hand to keep him back, casting her own spells. Sheepish, he brushed himself off and stuck to the edge of the porch, which creaked unsteadily under his weight.

“She’s not. Not awake I mean.” The witch-healer muttered, careful to not touch or startle her patient. “But it is her magic lashing out.”

Pippa gasped, hand flying up to cover her mouth. 

“She’s frightened.” She whispered, fingers splayed over her lips.

That was hardly new information, but Ada kept that thought deeply buried. Pippa was trying to help; trying to be supportive. She had to be kind and supportive back.

“Maybe we should stop using magic and get her somewhere safe and relatively magic-free.” She suggested. “Do research and try again after she’s been able to rest and restore her strength some.”

Morna nodded, standing. 

“I agree with Miss Cackle. Do either of you have such a location in mind?”

Ada nodded, breathing a sigh of relief as Hecate’s eyes closed and her face settled into a peaceful sleeping expression. 

“My cottage should be safe enough.” She supplied, eager to get Hecate back inside and check into this newly found curse with a greater degree of safety. Maybe sitting on the enchanted family home with dark blood wards was the reason for her unease; but she doubted that was the only reasons she felt this way. Though it wouldn’t hurt to be far far away.

Neither of the healers moved to pick up the gurney. 

“I- I apologize, ma’am. I was out of line earlier.” Jacodi admitted, gaze flitting from Ada to Pippa. Pippa nodded stiffly, face wet as she stared at Hecate. 

“Yeah, but you weren’t completely wrong.” Ada met his eyes, regret filled tears leaking down her cheeks. “I did abandon her.” She whispered. “I didn’t mean to. But I did.” 

“No!” Pippa was vehement, all but throwing herself down to Ada’s level. “You did not abandon her, Ada.” She shuffled into the shorter woman’s line of sight. “Look at me, love.”

Ada tearfully shifted her gaze. 

“You did your best for Hecate and you looked for her when she left.” She moved her hands to Ada’s shaking shoulders. “You did your best, darling.”

“No, I didn’t.” Ada whimpered, 

“Listen to me, Ada Cackle. I don’t know you as well as Hecate does. But I know how much you care about each other.” Pippa sighed. “I’ve offered Hecate my partnership more times than I care to count and every time she turned me down in your favour. And not just cause of her loyalty to the school. She’s loyal to you, Ada.”

Ada sniffled, dropping her eyes back to where her hand grasped limp cold fingers. 

“I know.” She whimpered. “That makes how quickly I assumed she’d left me behind so much worse.”

“Oh Ada.” Pippa gathered her up against her, letting her cry against her dishevelled pink shoulder. They held each other a moment, Ada painfully sobbing as Pippa silently dripped tears down the back of the older woman’s cardigan. 

Ada stiffened when she felt someone gently remove Hecate’s hand from hers; turning her head to see Morna smile softly at her. 

“We’ll get her ready to move. Can you direct us to your cottage, Miss?”

Ada nodded, not moving from Pippa’s tender embrace. It felt wonderful to be comforted. The last time someone other than a child had hugged her had been Agatha and that said enough by itself.

Morna nodded to her colleague and they lifted Hecate from the porch, carrying the stretched to the waiting double broom contraption. 

“You both have brooms?” The wizard asked, securing the gurney. 

“Yes.” Pippa assured them, blowing her nose with her handkerchief. 

They retrieved their own brooms and soon were airborne, the healers tailing. 

The cottage was in Ada’s name and to ‘primitive and secluded’ for Agatha. It had belonged to their aunt once upon a time but upon her retirement and move to Mexico, she had given it to Alma who had declared it perfect for Ada and gifted it away. Agatha had been angry until she had visited; then she’d teased her sister about her ‘hick-house’ for nearly three months. 

There were no wards or magical signatures attached to the cottage. This was mainly in part because only Ada had lived there in the past twenty years; and that time had been few and far between. It served pretty much as a place to formerly escape from Agatha after they had fought and then a place to dabble with her poetry. She had not been in need of a true escape in a while though… 

With that thought, Ada flushed, suddenly concerned about the state of the cottage. 

She had visited last four years ago, using it for a weekend rest. If her memory served, she’d left it neat enough. But there would be no food. Then again, they would have to collect Hecate’s things either way. Food wouldn’t be hard to acquire. 

Unease blossomed in Ada’s chest as the cottage came into view. She would be providing care for Hecate while she recovered. Non magical care; as was proper for magical exhaustion.   
That meant employing all those techniques and training she had received from an emergency magic-loss seminar nearly a decade ago. She felt brief shame at the realisation that helping Hecate change, eat, bathe and more, frightened her a bit. It was natural to be overwhelmed; she knew that. But her adamant assurance all but shouted at Dimity whacked her upside the head and she flushed. What if she wasn’t enough? Wasn’t able to keep it together? Wasn’t able to provide the care her deputy- no her friend, so desperately needed? What would that mean? For Hecate… for her…

She blinked back tears. She had cried enough today and didn’t need to worry Pippa or the healers any further. 

“You can do this, Ada,” She urged herself, the wind around her broom keeping her words for herself. “You have to.” 

It was a cute little drab cottage with one floor; two bedrooms, a kitchen, living room and bathroom. 

They touched down the yard. It was settled behind a little creek and adjoining a fairly large forest. No neighbours around for kilometres. 

Ada hurried to unlock the door and get the bed ready while the healers brought Hecate. 

Pippa helped her strip the bed and refresh the sheets and blankets. Three spells and it was crisp and clean; ready for the recovering woman. They hand made the bed, careful to remove the spells laced into the blankets for warmth and the pillows for softness. Occasional magic would hardly do anything; but continued charms and spells would slow Hecate’s recovery. 

Ada already planned to drag out every book she had that even mentioned magical exhaustion. Although not common; it was hardly a new or rare issue for the magical community and thus there was quite a bit on the treatment.

The healers carried Hecate in and while they situated her, Pippa pulled Ada back out into the hallway.

“You need to send word to Dimity. I’ll check the cottage over for supplies and bring everything as soon as I can.”

Ada nodded, gaze still fixed on the door. 

“Would you rather I contact Dimity too, Ada?” Pippa asked delicately.

Ada blinked. 

“No. No, I can contact her. But thank you, Pippa.” She smiled. “You’ve been amazing. I couldn’t have done this without you. Even found her without you.”

Pippa grinned. 

“You could have, Ada. I have no doubts about that. But I’m glad to be of assistance.”

“I appreciate your offer to get supplies too, to be honest I was dreading that.”

The younger witch nodded. 

“It’s alright, Ada. It’s a lot at once. No one would blame you for being overwhelmed.” She straightened her cloak, hat clutched in her hand. “I’ll go check the kitchen and then head out. Message me the moment you need me.”

Ada nodded.

“Thank you, Pippa.”

The pink headmistress slipped into the kitchen and Ada went back into the bedroom. When picking a room for Hecate, she had immediately chosen her own. She said again and again in her brain that it was because the bed was a full queen and the windows bigger; but truthfully she knew it was more than that.

“We’ve done everything we can for her right now.” Morna sighed, packing up her bag. Jacodi folded the stretcher under his arm. “We’ll take some time to research the material we collected and be in touch as soon as we can. There’s a battery of potions here for her; instructions attached.”

“Contact us if there’s any change.” The wizard offered, smiling for the first time. “And remember to limit spells around her.”

Ada nodded.

“Thank you.”

The healers left as quietly as they could and Ada was left alone with the sleeping deputy. 

She pulled a chair over and settled in. Distantly she could hear Pippa in the kitchen; but her focus was soon entirely on the woman in the bed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to each of you who patiently waited six months for this update. I will be posting chapter more regularly with any luck  
> Oh and Merry Christmas

Taking turns staying with Hecate so that she was never alone, Pippa and Ada managed to stock the cottage with everything they thought may be needed. Now there were lots of fresh fruit, vegetables, the various snack item and dry goods.  
A note from the healer, Jacodi, reminded them to feed their patient the blue shimmery potion before any of the others.

It had been a tense moment of figuring out how to prop up the limp woman, administer the potion and have her swallow it without any additional magic. They had settled on Ada climbing behind her and holding her back and head up as Pippa poured the potion down her throat, massaging to get her to swallow. Hecate had not stirred from being handled so much and for that they were both grateful and disappointed. The rest of the many potions were delivered in the same manner and by lunch time, they both felt like it was something they could handle properly.

Changing her had been its own journey and revelation. Pippa had volunteered much too quickly, insisting Ada needed to eat something, since she’d skipped breakfast. Ada had begrudgingly allowed the younger woman to take over and dragged herself into the kitchen to eat. But the sweet still warm cinnamon buns had been like sawdust as she let her mind wander. It had bothered her to the point that she had finally given up eating and hurried back, intent on insisting she help.

From the doorway she had just burst in when she caught sight of her deputy’s back. The cinnamon bun had hit her stomach with all the weight of an anvil and she’d gasped despite herself.  
Pippa had glanced toward her, alarmed, but she’d quickly draped the loose nightgown over her friend’s thin form.

“We can talk later, Ada. I know she didn’t want you to see that.” Pippa had muttered, looking unfazed.

Ada had nodded and gone back to the kitchen, feeling robotic. There was so much about her friend she didn’t know; so many mysteries she’d only grazed the surface of. She felt adrift and alone.

She had made a sandwich for Pippa, earning a soft smile from the other woman. They’d eaten in silence until Pippa had finished her sandwich and asked if Ada wanted some tea. She’d nodded that she did and they had nearly become comfortable over the fragrant cups.

“We shouldn’t leave her alone much longer.” Ada muttered, staring into her empty cup. It was one of her favourites. A gift from an old friend.  
Delicate china with tiny cat paws around the brim and a cheeky cat face in the bowl. Usually it made her smile. Not today. 

“How long has she had them, Miss Pentangle?” She’d tried to stay quiet but couldn’t resist. She had to know.

“I don’t know exactly.” Pippa confessed, fingertips playing in her empty saucer.

“I know they’re not something she likes people to see.”

“People?” Ada bit out, unable to stop herself. It hurt that Pippa knew things she didn’t.  
Pippa grimaced. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant she doesn’t want anyone to know. Not you or me or anyone.”  
Ada counted the paw prints in the tea cup. 

“You’re very important to her, Ada. She didn’t hide it from you because you’re not her best friend. Or because she didn’t trust you.” Pippa ducked her head, flushing slightly, as if she’d said something wrong. “I just don’t think Hecate understands yet that they’re nothing to be ashamed of.”

Ada reached out and took Pippa’s warm hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be snippy. I’m just- tired.”

Pippa squeezed her hand.  
“She’s had them as long as I’ve known her. I think it was from her grandmother. She was rather strict.”

Ada inwardly shuddered. Her own gran had been sugary and kind; the type to squeeze your cheeks and wink at you for not telling your mum about the bag of sweets she’d tucked into your pocket. 

It was always disheartening to hear that other grandmothers were less than jolly. Like so many students over the years with horrible families, Ada tried to bat away the image of the tiny child in that old picture being so cruelly beaten. Scars like that didn’t occur from spankings for bad behaviour. She blinked back tears. A soft pink handkerchief pressed into her hand as Pippa smiled softly at her.

“Her parents passed away when she was little. She told me her grandmother raised her. I didn’t think much of it as a kid. But then when we were changing for practice one day I saw one of them on her arm and we didn’t talk about it. I mean I asked”. She shrugged. “As you can imagine I was a rather inquisitive child.”

Ada smiled, imagining the bouncy pink girl begging her sour friend for answers. It was a bittersweet image. 

“I’ll go sit with her.” Pippa muttered. “Contact Dimity when you’re ready, dear.”

Ada stared into the empty cup and tried not to wallow in how miserable a friend she felt. Nearly an hour later Dimity brought Hecate’s necessary personal belongings without prompting; a move that reduced Ada to tears. It warmed her heart to see everyone pitching in to assist. She only wished Hecate could be awake to see how loved she was. Maybe to wash away those dusty memories.

“You wouldn’t believe it, Ada.” Pippa exclaimed, strolling into Hecate’s temporary bedroom with Morgana in arms. “She was just sitting on the porch, pretty as you please. I thought I was going to have to hunt her down.” She had gone back to the dilapidated house after lunch to fetch Morgana, insisting that Ada stay.

Morgana looked smug, as if she liked being deemed unpredictable. She wiggled in Pippa’s arms and the headmistress gently set her on the floor. As if magnetized, the cat hurried to her mistress, sniffing up her arm and then settling into a loaf by her neck. She blinked up at Ada a few times then closes her eyes to cat cap.  
Ada smiled. It was good to see Hecate’s longest companion back with her. The cat’s stoic support was encouraging as well. Somehow it gave her hope.

Ada read an article of Pioneering Potions out loud, specifically choosing one that Hecate disagreed with. But the still woman didn’t wrinkle her nose and tell Ada is was ridiculous. 

They gave her the next round of potions, with a helpful Morgana licking her mistresses wrist. 

Ada had held Hecate up and against her while Pippa poured the potions. They had finished and Pippa was settled the empty coals back into their bag when Ada felt a hand gasp her arm.

She glanced down, shocked to see pale fingers curl into her shirt sleeve.

“Hecate!” She gasped, manoeuvring the frail woman so she could see her face.  
She was awake.  
 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to un_petit_oiseau for editing this chapter for me! You’re amazing!   
> Happy New Year! Hopefully you all enjoy this new addition

Hecate smelt nutmeg and cinnamon sugar. She felt soft wool against the back of her neck and the wet sandpaper of her cat’s tongue against her wrist. She had enjoyed the blissful darkness and now fought the urge to seek out the pinprick of light at the edge of the night. A gentle voice whispered her name and she opened her eyes.

Suddenly she was on fire, her nerves near to snapping; from her head to her toes every joint and muscle screamed in agony. The body behind her moved and suddenly her vision was full of Ada. Dear Ada. Ada who had patiently befriended her when very few others ever had; who’d always smiled when she’d entered a room. Who’d asked her to leave Cackles. But before she could wallow in that anguish, the physical pain overwhelmed her thoughts. She felt wet tendrils stream down her cheeks to dribble into her ears. 

Another face swam into blurred vision and she blinked, trying to focus on the face she realized was Pippa’s. Why was Pippa there? Ada was baffling enough. 

“When you allow people to help you, Hecate, you drag them down into the mess of your own doing.” Her grandmother’s words thundered in her brain and she wanted the darkness again. Wanted the silent darkness where there had been no pain or questions. She let her eyes fall shut.

“Stay with me, Hecate. Please stay awake!” Ada sounded frantic, worried, even panicked. Strong emotions were not new for the easily excited Headmistress, but this edge of hysteria was not something Hecate had ever heard. Even the horrific misadventures instigated by Agatha had not inspired such a reaction. Hecate would do anything for Ada, had sworn allegiance time and again.

Her eyes opened once more. A soft pink handkerchief wiped the continuous tears she didn’t remember crying. 

“How can we help you, dearest?” Pippa urged. Her blonde head darted dizzyingly in and out of Hecate’s line of vision. 

“Potion,” she whispered, almost inaudible. Her mouth was so dry, and her throat felt as though a hamster had gone skating with a Brillo pad. Her hand fluttered, but her body was too weak to do anything else. The tears continued. She felt useless, overwhelmed.

-

Ada wanted to pull the trembling woman tight into her arms to shield her from her obvious pain. But even the gentle propping against her shoulders seemed to be agony for her. So, she carefully laid her back down against the soft pillows. Using Pippa’s handkerchief, she continued to wipe away the tears Hecate did not seem capable of stopping. Hecate’s eyes were huge, pupils blown and mouth agape as she struggled for each breath. Her hands and feet jerked occasionally without control. Ada found herself struggling to match her recent memory of the stern potions mistress to the softly whimpering woman writhing, torn apart, before her.

“Show her the potion you found,” Pippa gasped, snapping Ada back to the task at hand.  
Ada hesitated, remembering her former fear that the potion had been a final resort, used if one were in enough pain and despair to seek an end. Ada wasn’t ready to lose her friend. Not ready at all.

“Hecate. What is this?” she asked, pulling the final dosage of salvaged potion from her pocket. 

Hecate blinked at it; making no sign that she recognised or wanted it. Pippa and Ada exchanged a worried glance.

“We found it by you in the house, love.” 

The struggling woman moved her lips but there was no sound. Ada bent closer.

“Please,” Hecate begged.

It threatened to break Ada’s heart. She couldn’t refuse her, no matter what. Tears burning her eyes, she uncorked the vial and, steeling herself, lifted Hecate enough so she wouldn’t choke. Pippa slipped in to hold her up, and Ada, drop by precious drop, emptied the vial into Hecate’s mouth. Painstakingly, with a single finger, Ada helped her swallow and then they settled her back into the bed.

Hecate shuddered violently, then stilled, her head lulling to the side as her body finally relaxed.   
Ada shrieked, sure she’d just witnessed her final moments.

“No! Ada, she’s fine! She’s breathing!” Pippa practically screamed, arm out across Hecate to hold Ada back.

Ada jerked back as if on a string and teetered dangerously before gripping the bed and using it to slip into the chair. Her hands moved her to face and she wept. 

“What the hell?”

Ada jumped, trying to control her hiccupping sobs. Dimity, hat on and broom in hand, stood in the doorway, looking torn between confusion and concern.

“She’s okay,” Pippa assured, her eyes glued to the now peacefully resting patient. “She just gave us a scare.”

“Oh,” Dimity wilted a bit, her breathing a bit laboured from rushing up. No doubt she’d heard the scream, Ada thought, inwardly wincing. Although she felt thoroughly wrung out, she hated seeing Pippa, and now Dimity, holding it together for her.

“She’ll need more potion, Pippa,” she muttered, still clutching the vial in a white-knuckled grip.

“I can check her potion stores,” Dimity offered, gesturing to the empty vial. Ada handed it over, eyes drifting back to Hecate, now peacefully asleep. Dimity muttered something to Pippa, patted her shoulder and went back into the hall, broom still in hand.

Ada sighed, resigning herself to letting Hecate rest. Let her regain her energy. Somehow get her more potion and then—Ada clenched her hands together in her lap—she would fix this. 

“Ada. She’s sleeping well enough. I’ve checked her pulse and it’s steadier,” Pippa soothed.

“That’s wonderful,” she forced out, with a smile that felt unnatural.

“Ada. Even if Dimity doesn’t find the potion, we will figure out her recipe for more or where she got it. We’re in this together, love.”

Ada looked over at the fellow headmistress. She was smiling softly. 

Pippa Pentangle was both amazing and infuriating, Ada mused. It wasn’t natural to be so positive, and while she knew Pippa was right and they needed to look on the bright side, she indulged in a little private petulance at Pippa’s gentle admonition. Ada knew better than to let despair creep in, but also it felt wrong to just wave away the horrific scenes they’d witnessed just hours apart. 

“I know,” she whispered. “And I’m so grateful.” Liar! her inner voice screamed. She got up and let her eyes linger on Hecate a moment longer before going in search of Dimity.

“You need to get better, Hiccup,” Pippa whispered, leaning down to smooth a hair from the still woman’s forehead. “We need you. I need you.”

It probably would have been better for everyone if Ada had not heard this sentiment as she passed through the door.


End file.
